I'm not even sure what that sentence really means. I've spent almost a year writing about what it feels like, but even that I'm not sure of any more.
When I was a kid, my Dad used to joke that I had a photographic memory. He would tell his friends, "look what my daughter can do." He'd ask me to recite various facts and figures to prove his point and I would perform as requested. In later years, there was less performing (thank goodness) but he would ring me up every time he was struggling to remember something. "What was the name of that shop we passed on that holiday in 1997?" or "What was the number for that removal firm we passed last week?" and so on.
Nowadays that talent seems to have disappeared.
I'm learning Spanish at the moment (more on that later this week) and I'm not very good at remembering phrases. Is that because fibromyalgia makes learning languages more difficult for me than others, or is it because I don't revise as much as I should and I was never very good at languages in the first place. My guess is the latter, but how do I know? And does it even matter?
I'm trying really hard to control my pain levels; with three holidays, two weddings and a music festival coming up I need to be on my game. I need my body to do as it's told. And more importantly, I need my mind to do the same. The spiral of worry into pain into worry (which I discussed here) is recipe for disaster.